


for all the wishes in the world

by starianprincess



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 18:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starianprincess/pseuds/starianprincess
Summary: In which Yuuri, a magic herbalist, is unceremoniously dragged on a quest by the kingdom’s most powerful sorcerer, Viktor.“Gracious, that was unpleasant!” A smooth voice exclaims. Yuuri is resting on his palms, poised to flee, as he watches the silver-haired man dust himself off. He launches upward, balancing himself on his knees, and gathers himself in a flurry. The leaves whistle around them, almost embracing the man, gingerly catching on his every angle, while the same chill from earlier tickles at Yuuri’s neck. He feels a bead of sweat drip down his cheek. And he would have raised a hand to swipe it off, had the man not turned to meet his eyes.





	for all the wishes in the world

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Viktuuri Reverse Bang](), inspired by the art and prompts of [redlilyart](https://redlilyart.tumblr.com/).

In Yuuri’s line of work, he understands that he should be ready to face the unexpected – from deep cuts and gashes, to accidental limb-sprouting, to folks running into his shop in unusual skin colors (like green or orange or a bubbling violet), to customers who appear to be something entirely else than human. 

With his generally quiet demeanor, the no-nonsense tilt of his chin, the barest of nods in acknowledgement, the promise that he would get right on the case without question, he’d often heard it said that he was perfectly in place, the proper magic herbalist. Not quite a physician, but authorized all the same to recommend a list of quick fixes and remedies, and free to study the medicinal properties of any mysterious plant or herb in the kingdom, while his life is often demanding and hectic, it is, nevertheless, a manageable chaos. The kind of chaos he prefers.

Even as he digs through the dirt, scuffing his knee against an uprooted tree limb, his glasses smudged, and the stench of freshly applied fertilizer in the air, Yuuri is at peace. He hums beneath his breath, wondering what sort of cases he will likely encounter during the day. 

Perhaps someone will arrive with an enlarged tongue or toe. Perhaps a beleaguered mother will come running, her floating child in one arm and a vial of thick, oozing rainbow-colored liquid in the other. Perhaps he will, finally, encounter an invisible patient, Yuuri smiles. Yes, it is a challenging profession, but he understands that it is just part of the world he lives in, that even disorder is measured and timed, that even the unexpected can be filtered and processed. 

But, every so often, Yuuri wishes. Against his nature and what he knows to be true, he wishes for something more, something different, something beyond the chaos he is accustomed to. And, if he knew better (as he normally does), he would know that one ought to be careful with wishes. One never knows who might be listening, after all.

It is a strange voice that whispers this in his ear, like a mischievous passing breeze. He almost doesn’t catch it. But, Yuuri blinks, he does hear something. Something which causes the hair on the back of his neck to stand in attention, in gleeful anticipation, in fear. It is an odd sensation. He freezes, listens intently to the world around him, yet is unable to focus on exactly what it is. 

There is a whirring, as every other sound – the birds chirping, the leaves rustling, the construction noise from his hometown, the call from one animal to another – stills for a moment, halts as if a hole has opened up in the universe and spat out something new, something foreign. There is an intake of breath. It is another second before Yuuri realizes that that sound came from him. 

And then he notices a lone figure dropping from the sky.

*

It all happens so quickly, Yuuri doesn’t have time to react. He knows that something strange though decidedly human is falling from the heavens, yet the only sound it makes is the pull of gravity, a calm suction which presses it downward. On and on, until it dips slightly as if to pause and crashes through a perfectly lined set of raspberry bushes, rustling forward the rest of the way. And out tumbles a silver-haired man in a stylish, fuchsia cloak. 

Before anything else, this is what Yuuri decides: the man spells trouble. Yuuri eases back, having launched himself against the cushion of foliage behind him for support and in case he quickly needed to hide. He knows it would be better to make a silent exit before the man notices he’s there. Because what Yuuri also knows is that the man is dangerous, someone he should steer clear of. And he didn’t need the emerald ring on the man’s left index to know it, though Yuuri has heard rumors.

Every so often, the stories populate his town, circulated by traveling merchants, and passed along by anyone and everyone else. Stories of the most powerful sorcerer, the first of his kind, a noted prodigy, able to conjure anything his heart desires, able to learn and call upon any spell, able to bend the laws of reality as they knew it. 

Even in magic, there are rules, as evidenced by Yuuri’s work as an herbalist. There are measurements and specifications, warnings about too much and too little. Magic, as he understands it, is just another piece of the puzzle, an element the world had yet to properly study. And he is lucky to be in the throes of that revolution. There are, however, people who lived beyond the laws of the world and of magic. Who essentially didn’t need to study the dynamics of what could work and what wouldn’t, no matter how much wand-swishing or spell-chanting they tried. There are those whose magic exists beyond the sort which is measured and timed, those whose existence themselves is shrouded in mystery – the sorcerers and mages.

Yuuri had never particularly liked them. He had encountered quite a few in his lifetime, a stray visitor here and there, and knew they never lingered, always called for “something greater” as they would put it. They frequented his shop, as they, too, used magical plants and herbs. But most could get by on just their magic, a kind of lawless, boundless magic, whether it meant carrying a staff or wand, or they were dependent on a specific action like a symbol drawn in the air or a snap of the fingers. 

Truth be told, Yuuri himself had tried that route in his studies, had considered it, had entertained the notion of studying the magic of the beyond. But he had later found that it wasn’t in the cards for him. He prefers a certain amount of predictability in that sense, is relaxed at the idea of being able to understand the wonder, to take it apart. Magic, in his eyes, always comes at a price, after all. Such is said about fated meetings as well.

“Gracious, that was unpleasant!” A smooth voice exclaims. Yuuri is resting on his palms, poised to flee, as he watches the silver-haired man dust himself off. He launches upward, balancing himself on his knees, and gathers himself in a flurry. The leaves whistle around them, almost embracing the man, gingerly catching on his every angle, while the same chill from earlier tickles at Yuuri’s neck. He feels a bead of sweat drip down his cheek. And he would have raised a hand to swipe it off, had the man not turned to meet his eyes.

“Oh! Hello there!” The man smiles, trudging forward through the long grass. His brightly colored cloak continues to swish in unnatural motions behind him. It is then that Yuuri realizes that it is cleaning itself, brushing dirt and dust off, then wringing itself before ironing out to finish. As far as he can tell, the man had yet to mutter any kind of incantation, further grounding his suspicions.

“S-Stay back,” Yuuri nearly chokes, his voice coming out in a croak. The man, to his credit, halts, gazing at him in open curiosity, as if he were studying a wounded creature, deciding what would be the best way to approach. And possibly to devour. Yuuri swallows. 

“I don’t want—,” he begins and stops short, noticing the tear on the man’s sleeve, the trail of blood spilling from the side of his leg, “You need to sit back down.” 

“What?”

As the man watches him in confusion, Yuuri holds his hand out, palm firmly facing forward, “Sit! I have a salve here that will help.”

He can’t help it, of course: a person in need. Yuuri doesn’t pause to question the urge until he is crouched by the man’s side and examining his scratches. Thankfully, there are only cuts and bruises, considering the height from which the man had fallen. An ordinary person would have broken a rib, thank heavens for magic. But one couldn’t ever be too careful with infections. Yuuri tells him this, evenly, tone all business, brows furrowed. The man blinks, once, twice, then laughs.

Yuuri is in a deep dive of lecturing him on various common herbs that can help in such situations, when the man stretches his arm out. At first, Yuuri thinks the man means to show him a bruise he had missed. Instead, the man gently wraps his fingers around Yuuri’s wrist, forcing him to again meet his gaze.

The man’s eyes are a crystal blue, not quite the color of the sea but just as deep and fathomless.

“Sir, please, tell me your name,” the man says, still smiling, wider then, “I’m Viktor.”

Yuuri’s heard stories about demons who can take control of a person’s soul as long as they have said individual’s name. He knows he ought to be more cautious. Yet, he nods, slowly, feeling himself getting drawn in by those eyes. 

“It’s Yuuri,” he obliges, the words slipping from his lips. And, strangely, he sees the man’s expression shift, absorbing the information, cradling it close as if it were a secret between them. He wonders if he’s doomed himself, promised his being to the a lifetime of servitude. There is a sudden heat which springs up inside him, as if someone has cast a spell around them to stop time. He exhales softly to make sure that isn’t the case.

And then Viktor says his name back, almost as if in prayer, “Yuuri.”

*

“Are you from that town?” Viktor asks him, pointing to Hasetsu in the distance, as Yuuri finishes wrapping a bandage around his arm. He chooses to nod, having decided he had better keep from providing the man any more information about himself, until… Well, until Viktor makes his own intentions known.

“Ah, I miscalculated the jump a little bit, didn’t I?” Viktor mutters to himself. “But then, I’ve made it to the other side of the kingdom, so I shouldn’t be too far off.”

Yuuri, despite himself, has a slew of questions resting upon his tongue. Miscalculated? How does that work? Did Viktor need a spell to teleport himself? A potion? An item? He bites his bottom lip, doing the final checks, before sitting back, a considerable distance from Viktor. Is Viktor really from the other side of the country? Does that mean he came from the capital? 

“Would you like me to tell you what it is I’m after?” Viktor grins at him teasingly, almost knowingly, and Yuuri can’t help staring. There is an easiness about Viktor which doesn’t feel like he’s being looked down on, yet Yuuri understands it in the way that it is meant to keep others at a distance. He knows this, somehow, because he sees the way Viktor regards him. True enough, though there is warmth there, a distinct and inviting curiosity, there is also a cool sense of detachment. Viktor looks at him in mild interest, the way a magnificent gazelle might gaze at a humble rabbit. They have no reason to be interacting, but could if they so wished. But, really, the only thing they do probably have in common is a similar diet.

Viktor is still waiting for his response, to which Yuuri finally shrugs.

“If it would endanger you to, I’d rather you not tell me.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Viktor pouts, and Yuuri almost grins back. How is it that Viktor, a person he has just met, can illicit these responses from him? Yuuri turns to hide his reddening cheeks. “It’s an exciting adventure, you know. Maybe a bit dangerous, too.”

Yuuri nearly winces, but keeps himself busy by repacking his supplies. 

“But then, what is an adventure without that thrill, right?”

Yuuri hums back vaguely, muting his response. In truth, he is on the edge of his seat. What kind of adventure? Where is Viktor going? What _is_ he after?

“Yuuri,” he freezes as Viktor comes up at his side, far enough to not be touching him, but close enough that he can feel Viktor’s breath by his ear, “you should be more honest. I’d love to tell you what you want to know.”

Yuuri swears his heart his beating so hard and so fast, that it can probably be heard a mile away. But Viktor is still looking at him calmly, only looking at him, eyes sparkling, either ignoring it or choosing not to acknowledge it. Looking for all the world like he has already won a game they are playing. 

Yuuri frowns, gritting his teeth, “Stop that.”

But this only serves to egg Viktor on. 

“How exhilarating would it be if you were on a quest for the king himself?” Viktor swooned, touching his hand to his own forehead, as if the knowledge of that alone is enough to make him faint. “Have you ever heard of the Platinum Gem?” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen, as he is unable to stop himself in time, “You mean, Hope’s Treasure? You’re looking for Hope’s Treasure?”

Viktor laughs in triumph, “Yes, the Platinum Gem is also called Hope’s Treasure, isn’t it?”

At the teasing tone, Yuuri narrows his gaze, “Isn’t that just a legend? No one’s ever seen it.”

He is so absorbed in the moment, wending through the information he’s gotten, that Yuuri doesn’t budge when Viktor slides an arm across his shoulders. He does, however, nearly jump when Viktor pulls him closer, their faces again inches apart, breaths mingling as they share in the grandest of all secrets.

“If no one’s ever seen it, then where do all the stories come from?”

*

Yuuri doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. Actually, he does. He’s known from the beginning that Viktor is bound to bring him trouble, but Yuuri finds that he wants to learn more. To learn more about their ever-changing world, to explore the possibilities. It could just be a story, a legend that he (and nearly every child in the kingdom) has fallen asleep listening to – Hope’s Treasure. But, somehow, he is determined to see it through, to unravel at least this one mystery. 

If he were honest, he would also admit that it might’ve been Viktor’s hand, his arm outstretched beckoning him on the journey of a lifetime, the immediate call of an adventure, one that would never present itself again. And so Yuuri had taken that hand, and soon found himself at the next town. And, already, the change in atmosphere is making him want to curl up in a tight ball and run back home. 

He had traveled to other parts of the country before, had needed to deliver and pick up various ingredients for his potions and remedies. But these trips had been planned to an extent, had been accounted for. And this time it is different. It is uncharted. At the very least, he doesn’t have a specific list of supplies he can pretend to focus on. Knows he doesn’t have a line of patients and customers waiting for him to return to immediately. Viktor had said that he would take care of that.

He had seen his companion look to be concentrating soon after making the statement. Viktor had then asked him for the address of his shop and taken a vial out of his cloak, uncorking it and splashing its contents in the space in front of them. Yuuri had watched in fascination as a bluish flame formed in place, before Viktor muttered beneath his breath and the flame disappeared as quickly as it was summoned. 

Viktor had looked to him, given him a thumbs up, and Yuuri assumed that he had somehow managed to leave a note or sign at his shop, indicating how Yuuri would be out for the next couple of days. He didn’t ask. And Viktor hadn’t provided any kind of answer, had simply gone about examining their surroundings as if everything had already been arranged, task completed. Yuuri would have to get used to that.

He feels Viktor’s hand on his back, ushering him forward through the crowd. It feels like there are dozens of eyes on them. But there’s also a chance that this is all in Yuuri’s mind. Strange as Viktor may appear, he blends in perfectly amongst the townsfolk, looking to be a merchant or aristocrat, all laidback in his strides, absorbed in his own purpose. Yuuri wonders then what sort of life Viktor had before everything, if he had grown into his abilities, or lived this way from the beginning. If he had anyone worrying about him back home, wherever home was.

He is pulled from his thoughts as a man comes running through, nearly knocking him over, shouting for all able-bodied citizens, “The dragon’s back at it again! We need all hands on the outskirts of town.”

Before Yuuri can assume his place in the shadows of the nearest wall, before he can go unnoticed, Viktor has his hand in the air. 

“Perhaps we could be of assistance!”

Yuuri sighs as Viktor pulls him forward, can’t back out either way as his companion’s grip is firm. And the people around them have already begun turning to wonder who the newcomers are. Viktor’s pace is exhausting, but the only option is to get carried along and see where it might take him. 

*

“You could have asked me first,” Yuuri frowns, moving a long leaf out of his way and automatically doing the same for Viktor, who is behind him. He stomps through the tall grass and allows his bangs to dip forward, without brushing them away, before Viktor can properly ascertain the look in his eyes.

“But they needed our help!” Viktor pouts, concentrating on the map he had gotten from one of the town elders, tracing their path with his fingers. Once he has made sure they are on the proper course, he refolds it and goes back to studying his sighing companion. 

“Are you mad, Yuuri?” 

Yes, Yuuri wants to say. Instead, his lips form a straight line before he gives up altogether. Turns around again to gaze at Viktor warily. This actually serves to disarm the sorcerer, keeps him from taking another step forward. He almost looks fearful, like he doesn’t want to disappoint Yuuri. And Yuuri takes a perverse pleasure in knowing he can at least have that kind of effect on him. Keeps his mouth tensed in a straight line, before turning back towards the path, hearing Viktor begin to reluctantly follow.

He relents as they make it past the thicket, after another few minutes of silence. “I’m not mad. I just wish you would consult me next time. Maybe you’re accustomed to making these decisions on your own,” Yuuri explains, handing Viktor his canteen, noting that the sorcerer looks a tad paler than before, probably not used to traversing on foot for so long a span of time.

“But you’re not on your own anymore,” he finishes as he watches Viktor’s head tilt back, thankful for the water. Yuuri busies himself by taking inventory for the umpteenth time, so he doesn’t catch the look Viktor gifts him, one of humble understanding and deeper appreciation. 

*

It isn’t long before they reach the dragon’s lair, a cave beyond the outskirts of town, just as instructed. Yuuri had delighted at the idea of collecting a few of the dragon’s scales, planning an infinite number of uses for them. And they didn’t even have to kill the dragon to get them, he had explained to Viktor, as the scales fall off periodically. 

But as they approach the cave, edging into its mouth, Viktor conjuring a low flame to guide their way, Yuuri wonders if he had gravely miscalculated. Because to keep said dragon from terrorizing the town, how else could they deal with it? He had never personally faced a dragon before. Viktor didn’t seem at all nervous about it, but as far as Yuuri could tell, not much could unnerve him anyway. 

He is about ask, when Viktor steps ahead of him, cloak swishing against Yuuri’s leg. The minute the cloth touches him, Yuuri swears he can hear a string of voices, inaudible sounds but certainly whispers, gentle and comforting, telling him not to be afraid. He hopes to remember to ask about them later.

“It’ll be okay, just stay behind me,” Viktor calls from up ahead, a reverberating groan following shortly after. Yuuri takes a sidestep back and feels the wall of the cave behind him, steadying him. He tells himself it’ll be okay, just as Viktor promised. Knows that Viktor is every bit capable of keeping them safe, of course, but there is also a hundred pound, fire-breathing dragon lurking deep in the cave somewhere. So, maybe the fact that his knees are nearly buckling from under him is okay. 

They enter a clearing further in, something of a receiving area as it is lined with animal bones and a bed of leaves, before the path narrows again, leading into a tighter cavern. Viktor keeps Yuuri from stepping forward with his arm outstretched to the side.

“Wait here, and keep yourself from making any sudden movements,” Viktor warns before leaping forward. Before he can touch the ground, a soft gust of air propels him forward, away from Yuuri, heading straight into the cavern. Viktor takes the small flame with him, so Yuuri is forced to wait it out in the dark. He doesn’t know if this makes the situation worse, because, on the one hand he can’t see a thing and likely won’t have to witness a magnificent creature getting killed. But, on the other, well, he can’t see a thing.

It isn’t the first time Yuuri questions his better judgement, questions why he trusts Viktor implicitly. There is, after all, a good chance that if things don’t work out, Viktor would be free to abandon him at any time. But, Yuuri frowns, feeling his heartbeat steady, he knows Viktor wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t just leave him in a dire situation he couldn’t get himself out of, wouldn’t abandon him. Wonders how he knows this for a fact, but he does.

Suddenly, a roar echoes through the cave and Yuuri’s mind can’t help drawing up blank. He reaches down for his satchel, a defense mechanism, but doubts he can do much if the dragon decides to emerge and make a beeline for him. What are the chances? Yuuri remembers Viktor’s warning and steels himself. Thinks to the books he’s read on dragons, how they were once regarded as gentle creatures before humans started hunting them down. 

Concentrating on the darkness, Yuuri recalls that for a dragon to call this sort of cave home, it would have to be the type which is not constantly able to fly. More similar to lizards, said dragons prefer running at dizzying speeds and creeping up on their enemies. They are also more mild-mannered than other types, as some were noted to have been domesticated in the past, and could hibernate for decades at a time.

Blinking, finally arriving at a way he could help, Yuuri rummages through his belongings. He assembles the ingredients he will need and, once poised to make his move, calls out into the cavern.

“Viktor, I know what to do!” 

Another roar emerges from the depths, before Viktor yells back, “No, Yuuri! I told you to wait there!”

“I’ll be fine,” Yuuri responds, reaching for the ground and quickly, expertly, preparing the ingredients. As the herbs are already chopped, all he needs to do is crush the remaining seeds and berries, and infuse them into one of his special recipes in a spare container. He has the potion bubbling in a matter of seconds. “Lead the dragon here! I promise, I’ll be okay.”

Before Viktor can protest, Yuuri calls out again, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing!”

He doesn’t know if Viktor hears him or if he’ll even listen, but supposes he’ll just have to trust in the sorcerer as well. Viktor appears above him, however, in a flurry of smoke, before he has time to laugh at the turn his thoughts have taken. 

“Quickly, Yuuri, it’s coming!” 

Yuuri blows into the container, swishing the mixture around until the bubbles foam outward, growing and growing until they have begun excreting an orange haze of their own. Yuuri instructs Viktor to cover his nose, though he’s fairly certain the concoction won’t affect them. He spies the dragon crawling swiftly toward them, having emerged from the darkness and ready to strike. It stops short of reaching them though, falling forward with a thud, its thin bat-like wings folding neatly above it. 

In truth, the dragon is not much larger than a horse. Yuuri can’t be sure if this is because it’s still a baby, but he figures everyone will be safer this way. It’s an outcome which works in the dragon’s favor as well.

“You didn’t kill it,” Viktor observes from behind him, and Yuuri nods. His glasses have fogged up, and he removes them to clean with a small cloth from his pouch.

“We don’t need to. The reason why it was bothering the town is because it was hungry. It couldn’t pile up enough food for a proper hibernation period, so it was forced to steal. From the looks of things, it should have enough now,” Yuuri gestures to the crops and vegetables and fruits littered around them, “The magic in its body should preserve the food and the cave. And it will probably go on sleeping for a few decades. It should be more manageable and in a better mood the next time it wakes.” 

Viktor seems satisfied with the explanation and hovers down, his feet touching the ground. Yuuri reaches for his shoulder as they trudge back up the way they came, “I have a favor to ask.”

“I understand perfectly,” Viktor replies with a smile and wink, before Yuuri can continue. Outside, they pause at the cave’s entrance. Yuuri steps away, to allow Viktor an ample amount of space to work. The sorcerer raises his arms, closes his eyes, and the mouth of the cave slowly closes, its stone walls extending and knitting together, until evidence of its existence vanishes completely. 

“The dragon should be strong enough to undo the spell when it wakes,” Viktor reassures Yuuri as they walk back to the town. Yuuri considers his words, meets Viktor’s eyes, and, this time, allows a genuine smile of his own. 

*

“Tell me more about this quest of yours,” Yuuri says, as the two sit across from each other, a campfire burning in between them. He is a considerable distance from Viktor, but it still feels a bit too close for comfort, and he decides that asking about Viktor’s life, exposing him, might make him feel a little less exposed himself. It sometimes feels like Viktor can see right through him, especially with the way Viktor watches him so intently. Thankfully, the sorcerer obliges his request.

“I’ve always had a somewhat pleasant relationship with the king, His Majesty, in that he’s left me to my own devices,” Viktor focuses on the flames, “I mean, nothing’s ever been too difficult. Nothing too out of reach. I can practice my magic, discover treasures and secrets to the unknown world as I please, and I can go wherever I want. I needn’t have bothered with any of this realm’s problems.”

“But, I suppose it was an aimless life,” Viktor chuckles, “It had gotten to a point where nothing truly excited me anymore. As I began to notice this, the king and queen welcomed a son, the crown prince.”

“I remember,” Yuuri nods, “everyone in the kingdom celebrated that day. They had been trying for so long.”

“Yes,” Viktor continues, “Yuri was truly a blessing.”

“Excuse me?” Yuuri blinks, confused.

“Oh, didn’t you know? You and the crown prince have the same name,” Viktor laughs, his eyes twinkling, “Well, I suppose the news hasn’t gotten this far out yet. There’s supposed to be a formal proclamation on his sixteenth birthday. But if you live in the capital, it’s common knowledge.”

“I see,” Yuuri nods, filing the information away. He remembers the way Viktor had repeated his name upon their meeting, the way Viktor’s eyes had beheld him, almost as if they had been touched by fate. There had been a sense of familiarity, which is how they easily fell into place with each other. How easily Viktor had taken to him. Yuuri supposes he has the crown prince to thank for all that.

“You’re nothing like him,” Viktor muses, pulling Yuuri out of his thoughts. He quirks his head, waiting for Viktor to continue.

“Yurio, that boy, he’s grown up in isolation from the rest of the world. He doesn’t know enough to know what he wants, if anything at all.” There is a distinct sadness when Viktor reveals this, which in turn makes Yuuri’s heart constrict. He resists the urge to raise a hand to squeeze the fabric above his chest.

“He still has so much to live for, so much to learn,” Viktor frowns then, gritting his teeth, turning away. Again, Yuuri resists the urge move closer, to place a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, to do anything to comfort him, to make him smile again as he was only minutes earlier. Viktor is beautiful, even in visible pain and anguish, even with Yuuri’s chest tightening, his stomach turning on end. Viktor and his fair hair, ocean eyes, upturned lips. Yuuri swallows, feeling the blush on his cheeks.

“Is the prince sick?” he concludes, turning his thoughts away from the madness.

It takes a minute for Viktor to respond: “He’s dying.”

As it all falls into place in his mind, Yuuri finds the resolve inside himself. He can’t help it. He feels for this child he has never met. He feels a kinship which goes beyond their names, a connection which begins and ends with the man he had caught descending from the heavens. He feels the loss, the sadness, and the hope.

“That’s why you’re searching for the Platinum Gem,” Yuuri finishes for him, “It’s the only thing in the known world – perhaps in the unknown world as well – which can grant impossible wishes.”

“That’s what the legends tell us, don’t they?” Viktor replies, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips once more, rueful. It’s a different expression, another one Yuuri can keep snapshots in his mind of. He understands. The journey must have been difficult with Viktor travelling alone, must have been lonesome. Yuuri could only imagine how different his life was at the capital, with people probably always around him, with the king singing him praise, the young prince at his side.

“I’ll make sure you find your way back,” Yuuri announces, without thinking. Viktor looks to him in surprise. His own eyes widen, at a loss for words, “I-I mean, the sooner we find Hope’s Treasure, the sooner we can both return to our lives. You can go back to the capital, save the prince, and you’ll have gone on a quest which will go down in history.” 

Yuuri knows he’s rambling, trying to replace his promise with more words before Viktor can think them through, “Me, I’ll return to my town, return to my shop. Though, I hope you do at least convince the king to come visit Hasetsu sometime. I don’t think he’s ever seen it. And-And then maybe you—,” he stops short.

“And then, I?” Viktor repeats, his tone teasing. Silently, Yuuri curses him for being so perceptive.

“Never mind,” he grumbles, balling his hands into fists.

“Tell me, Yuuri,” Viktor presses, but he can’t be dissuaded.

Yuuri watches Vitkor’s eyes fall but for only a second. In the next, he is smiling cheerily at Yuuri again, talking about how delicious the food is at the capital. And, before long, they fall asleep, halfway around the fire, a little bit closer than before.

*

It is in the middle of a marketplace in the next town they visit, that Yuuri feels it. He feels it before he can determine what it is. Feels it before the universe seemingly tells him that something is wrong, or not quite right. He feels it before he spies the man watching them from a distance. The man has a grave expression on his face, as if devoid of feeling, a severely firm look – at least that’s what Yuuri catches before the man uses his cloak to hide it. 

As they turn a corner, Yuuri grabs Viktor by the arm and swiftly pulls him into a discreet alleyway. Viktor yelps in surprise, but Yuuri is determined to guide them further away. They run down backstreets until he is fairly certain they have lost the man.

“Yuuri, what’s wrong?” Viktor finally asks, but Yuuri shushes him, pressing their bodies against the side of a building, using the shade to keep them hidden. He stretches his neck out and checks the other side. Pulls back as he sees the man run past, confirming that he is searching for them and was indeed following them earlier.

“Yuuri?” Viktor whispers, warm puffs of air across his cheek, larger hands circling his waist and keeping him in place. Yuuri jumps back.

The sorcerer is clearly amused by his reaction, but chooses to focus on the issue at hand. He drags himself away from the wall, his cloak fluttering behind him. After catching his breath, Yuuri explains, “There’s a man following us. He has dark hair, dark eyes, a stern expression – he looks like a mercenary. Have you seen him before? Do you know him?”

Viktor pauses to think for a moment, but doesn’t come up with anything conclusive. “I don’t think I know anyone like that, but I can’t be sure. I’ve encountered a great number of people through my travels.”

Yuuri nods, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple, “We’ll just have to steer clear of him somehow. I don’t know how he was able to track us down or what he wants, but he looked dangerous.”

He feels Viktor’s fingers beneath his chin, tipping it up. Viktor’s bangs have fallen lower, leaving his expression unreadable; however, his voice comes out calm, even.

“You worry too much, Yuuri. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

And then, without warning, Viktor closes the distance between them. He takes a step forward, invading Yuuri’s space, twists them around so that it’s Yuuri’s back against the wall, and holds him there, leg wedged neatly in between Yuuri’s. It all happens so fast, that Yuuri doesn’t have time to tell him to stop, doesn’t have time to think. Wonders if he even wants Viktor to stop and back away at all. 

It’s everything and nothing, his mind can’t seem to pinpoint the source. He’s drowning, in a way, gazing into Viktor’s eyes which have taken on a slightly darker shade. It could have been the adrenaline of having gotten themselves out of an uncertain situation. Could have been the heat pooling inside of him from the moment he met Viktor. Yuuri doesn’t know.

It should terrify him, not knowing, the way the magic of the unknown does. But he isn’t scared at all, welcomes what he doesn’t know, astounds himself by yearning to jump headfirst into it. Viktor beats him to that as well. He presses their lips together, softly at first, tentatively, before the heat blossoms in Yuuri’s chest and he’s tugging roughly at Viktor’s, deepening the kiss, keeping them more closely together that not even light can pass between them.

He can feel Viktor smiling into the kiss, that nonchalant smile of his, but isn’t fooled in the least. Because Yuuri knows that he’s not as composed as he appears to be, if Viktor’s length pressing into him is any indication, their torsos aligned, a new kind of heat pooling below. 

“Wait,” he manages, as Viktor reaches for the hem of his shirt. Yuuri doesn’t receive a response. He tries again, “Viktor, we can’t.”

It is then that the reality of the situation starts to sink in. Here is he is, no-nonsense, keeps-his-head-down-and-out-of-trouble Yuuri canoodling in a back alley with a man he’s just met, while the fate of the kingdom and someone’s life hangs in the balance. He groans as Viktor licks his bottom lip, before moving on, lightly sucking at the base of his neck. Succeeds in getting his hands on Viktor’s shoulders and gently pushes him back.

Viktor looks disappointed but allows the motion. Yuuri keeps his eyes on the ground.

“We should get out of here, before that man returns. He should still be in the vicinity,” Yuuri says after a moment’s pause. 

“He’s very close. You’d do well to follow the herbalist’s lead,” a voice agrees behind them. 

Although they are startled, Viktor’s arms readily poised to attack and Yuuri’s heart threatening to escape up his throat, he recognizes the voice. He’d first heard it days ago, right before Viktor had fallen from the sky. 

*

A form materializes in the air, the wind spinning around it. Slowly, it becomes visible, translucent and a grayish blue – it is a massive hound, reminiscent of a fox as well, that Yuuri is reminded of the tales of mystical nine-tailed foxes, which once populated the country. If the books are to be believed, they are said to have come from a land across the sea, spiritual beings which safeguard homes and even specific people. But they haven’t been spotted in centuries and had always been rare sights to begin with.

Viktor is still on his guard, considering whether he should initiate or not. Not wanting to create a scene and possibly alert the man of their presence, Yuuri gestures for him to put his arms down, it’s all right. He’s pretty sure the creature won’t hurt them. He hopes he’s right.

“You,” he starts, catching the beast’s attention, “You’ve been following us, too, haven’t you?”

“It’s been ages since I’ve awoken from my slumber,” the beast responds, impressively long tail bobbing behind it, “I believe you called out to me, Yuuri. So, I found you and, of course, I was right. I thought you were interesting enough, and I’ve been with you ever since.”

“What do you want from him exactly?” Viktor interjects, coming to stand between Yuuri and the beast.

“Foolish sorcerer, your magic interests me as well,” the beast laughs, and it is almost worth it to see Viktor so unnerved, “You’re not as fun as Yuuri, but I do like you both.”

“All well and good, but we don’t—,” Viktor begins to retort, but he is cut short.

“You best not turn me away,” the beast sing-songs, “After all, you _have_ been searching for me, have you not?” 

“Searching?” Yuuri repeats, mouth hanging open. “Y-You’re the Hope’s Treasure?”

Even Viktor is at a loss for words, unable to comprehend. Yuuri looks back and forth between them, his mind desperately trying to make sense of their predicament. But the most important thing is clear.

“You can save the prince!” Yuuri decides, his spirits raised. He sees Viktor arriving at the same conclusion and moves to congratulate him, to tell him he no longer has to worry. But the beast isn’t done yet.

“I have listened to your hopes and don’t mean to disappoint you,” the beast tells them, tone heavy with feeling, “but I cannot grant impossible wishes. If the prince is to die, then he will die.” 

Again, Yuuri take a moment to wrap his head around the information, smile still in place. It falls away slowly, his heart dropping with it.

“But… But that’s why we’ve been looking for you,” Yuuri says, his vision starting to blur, “That’s why Viktor’s been looking for you.”

Viktor has remained silent, his expression solemn, his arms tense at his sides. Beyond coming up to stand by his side, Yuuri doesn’t know what to tell him either, doesn’t know what to even begin to say to console him. He wonders if he should take Viktor’s hand in his, wonders if he could. 

“There should be another way,” Viktor turns to meet Yuuri’s gaze directly, surprising him, probably them both. Yuuri can’t decide if Viktor is just trying to be strong, but he nods, once, twice, then vigorously. 

“Yes, I’m sure there’s another way,” he smiles, the tears finally spilling from his eyes. Viktor reaches up to brush them off, and then cradle Yuuri’s face. “And we’ll definitely find it.”

“Yes, we will, Yuuri,” Viktor smiles back, bending forward.

“I quite agree,” the beast hums, catching their attention. Viktor frowns.

“Although I cannot grant your impossible wish, I would like to come with you and be of assistance,” the beast explains, honing in on Yuuri. Viktor is about to shake his head, refuse the beast’s request, but Yuuri stops him. He laughs, wiping the remaining tears from his face, gathering himself to start anew.

“I suppose we can use all the help we can get,” Yuuri chuckles, “What do you think, Viktor?”

For a second, Yuuri thinks he’ll say no anyway, the beast floating next to them in anticipation. But Viktor relents and waves it off. “Well, it did offer.”

Yuuri winks at the beast and gives it a small cheer. By then, Viktor has turned away to retrieve their fallen belongings, and he can take his time in marveling at the creature he’s only ever read about in storybooks. Yuuri longs to ask it more, where it came from, how long it’s been asleep, what about him woke it up. But the beast has one last gift to give them.

“Yuuri, are you sure you have all your things with you?” Viktor asks, before facing them, only to gawk in offense.

Because the beast is floating lower, just enough to meet Yuuri’s face. And its great head is tipped forward, planting a kiss upon Yuuri’s forehead.

“From this day forth, I shall be your familiar,” the beast announces, the winds enveloping it once more. Its form begins to fade, in then out, changing, binding, deciding. It settles on a different one, its body emerging as if from a cocoon. Instead of a large fox-like being, it is instead a grayish-blue poodle, brushing out its fluff, wagging its tail, floating by Yuuri’s shoulder. “I have chosen a form to suite you, Yuuri. What do you think?”

With Viktor glowering behind them, Yuuri laughs, eyes to the sky, “I think you’re perfect.”

 

~ OWARI

**Author's Note:**

> This story was so much fun to write and explore. And I owe it all to Lily for planting the idea in my head. It started when I fell in love with [her first piece](https://redlilyart.tumblr.com/post/175114098686/my-first-picture-for-the-yurionicebigbang-thank) for the event, and imagined a magical AU where Viktor and Yuuri take on the roles of Howl and Sophie (from Howl's Moving Castle). The story has evolved since then, and, while it has a clear end, I left it open for an immediate sequel - which I am definitely planning to write. If you want to see more of my partner's beautiful art, go check her out on [Tumblr](https://redlilyart.tumblr.com/) and send her all the love. Much appreciation as well to Mac, who has continued to host the event and given us a distinctly creative space to collaborate. ♥
> 
> Feel free to chat with me, point out typos, and give me suggestions below. :)
> 
>  
> 
> You can also find me primarily on [Livejournal](https://starianprincess.livejournal.com/) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/starianprincess).


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